


Family Secrets

by AndreaLyn



Category: The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Escorts, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-03
Updated: 2013-11-03
Packaged: 2017-12-31 09:38:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1030158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This isn't one of the hobbies Mike ever expected Anders to hold, but he's not entirely sure it's so surprising. He didn't want to find out like this, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Secrets

“Anderson Torison,” he answers his second phone, his secret phone, the one he’s kept on him since he turned twenty-one and realized that PR isn’t the only thing he likes to do. Anders  _likes_  sex, likes it so much that he’s always wondered why he bothers doing it only for fun. With the powers of Bragi behind him, he’s developed a lucrative day job and an even better-paying one in the evenings.  
  
Not that he can exactly tell his family that half the numbers on his chalkboard are the clients from his personal escort business or that half the “meetings” he takes aren’t meetings so much as they’re clients choosing from a menu of fairly-priced items of Anders’ offerings.  
  
He makes arrangements with this client and checks his phone when a text sounds. It’s a number he doesn’t recognize asking for an appointment.   
  
 _you come highly recommended from a friend_ , it reads.  
  
Anders grins smugly and taps in a reply, laughing as he grabs his coat. “Dawn! I need to head out for the day!” With a new client, he likes to pull out all the stops and that means an appointment at the spa to make sure he looks his best.   
  
Dawn stands up in a hurry. “No!  _No_! Anders! You can’t just  _leave_  like this.”  
  
“It’s a meeting with a client,” he insists, since it technically is. “Seriously. And can you send over a few of the better wines to my apartment? I’m going to need them tonight when I bring in the client and try and secure the account,” he says with a wink. “Dawn, you’re the best! I promise, everything will be better in the morning!”  
  
He doesn’t even need to push Bragi into his voice for that one, since Dawn seems resigned to the reality of Anders leaving for the day. True, she deserves a raise, but until she actually clamours for one, why bother wasting the money?   
  
Anders spends the day getting a manicure, making sure he’s properly manscaped, and that he’s clean as you can get – bleached, too. He purchases a few new candles on the way home and makes sure his apartment is set up for this. He uses a flat down the hall from his own for this sort of thing, security in proximity and all. Once he’s ready, he texts Mr. Mysterious and tells him to come over any time he likes.  
  
Another reason he’s never going to tell his brothers about this is that they’d never let him live down the fact that he’s an all-around opportunistic slut and that it doesn’t matter whether it’s a man or woman. It’s sex and it’s money. Hell, he’s even good at the cuddling part and he  _excels_  at listening about their day.   
  
Twenty minutes later, the knock comes at the door.  
  
“Come in!” he summons, sprawled casually over the sectional, wearing his best black button-down and a pair of good slacks.  
  
His new client walks in and within seconds, Anders figures out this is not going to go well at fucking all.   
  
“Shit,” he says, springing to his feet.  
  
“Anders?”  
  
“Mike, what the fuck?” Anders sharply says. “Did Dawn send you? Is this some kind of fed-up bullshit that she’s giving out my meeting places, now? I swear to god, is no place safe?” he rants, not paying much attention to the pale look on Mike’s face. “Wait,” he says. “You barely speak to Dawn. That’s Ty’s world, since Valerie went into the wind, bearing Rob’s baby. Are you...?”  
  
“Anders, don’t,” Mike warns.   
  
“Holy shit,” Anders says, scoffing with barely-veiled delight. “You’re my client.”  
  
“Can we please talk about the fact that you’re a hooker?”  
  
“Escort,” Anders clarifies. “Can we please talk about how you’re my new client?” Seriously, he can’t get over that and he might be of a mind to harp on that forever, but there are a lot of holes here he doesn’t understand. “The friend who recommended me?”  
  
“One of our mutual friends from Hawke’s Bay,” Mike admits, scoffing.   
  
“And why now?” Anders asks, given that it’s been a month since Valerie left. Anders is keeping secrets from the rest of the family, given their mother’s reintroduction, but when layered with the whole ‘I’m an escort’ secret, it doesn’t seem like that big a deal. “You wanted my services tonight, of all nights. Why?”  
  
“You know why, Anders.”  
  
It doesn’t take more than a few moments to figure it out. “Right,” he says knowingly. “It’s yours and Val’s wedding anniversary. I should have known. I thought you were out with Olaf getting drunk out of your mind. Or with Axl and his Zeb-pet doing whatever freakish things they do. Instead, you solicited a stranger for sex.”  
  
“Yeah, well, it looks like that’s not happening,” Mike says in a huff.  
  
“Says who?”  
  
Anders crosses the room and bolts the door shut, making sure the locks are engaged and no one else is going to get in. He digs out both his cell phones and turns them off, grabbing Mike’s from the pocket he always keeps it in and turns it off, too. No interruptions, now, no escape from the conversation they’re about to have.  
  
Mike stares at Anders like he’s gone completely insane. “Anders, I know our family’s as fucked up as they get, but...”  
  
Mike’s just going to  _talk_  and talk, Anders realizes. He needs to do something about it or they’re going to be arguing all night. If memory serves, Mike’s pretty quick to react when forced, so Anders just needs to force his hand. Instead of letting Mike worry and obsess, Anders presses his forearm to Mike’s collarbone and shoves him up against the wall, shutting him up with a rough and claiming kiss.  
  
Mike shoves him forcibly off which, honestly, had to be expected.   
  
“You want this,” Anders accuses, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb. “I don’t need any god powers to know that. You  _want_  this and I can give it to you, Mike. I want to. You don’t ever believe me, but I want to take care of you.”  
  
“Yeah, well, you have a really fucked up way of doing it, Anders,” Mike accuses.  
  
“Our mother’s a tree, our brother is Odin, and if he happens to get hit over the head a little too hard, we all die,” Anders sums up the highlight reel of the Johnson family. “Do you want me to bring in Dad’s abusive stints or Ty’s apparent new violent streak with his wife?”   
  
Mike’s glare is colder than even Ty could manage. “So, what, the eldest brothers fucking each other is what we should introduce? Fuck you, Anders, I’m not going to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back.”  
  
“You won’t be. No one has to know,” Anders insists. “This is you and me behind a locked door. Axl doesn’t need to know, Ty doesn’t need to know. We don’t have to tell anyone,” he says, calm and assured and coaxing.  
  
Mike glares at him. “Don’t even try being Bragi with me. I’m Ullr and if this is a game to you, you have to know I’m going to win,” he says.   
  
“That sounds like a challenge,” Anders counters with a smirk, sliding his palms down Mike’s torso and pressing tightly against his hipbones, shoving him against the wall with the smug delight of someone who’s been wanting to do that for a very long time. “Come on, Mike. One night and I help you blow off some steam. I won’t even charge you for it.”  
  
“On one condition.”  
  
“Name it.”  
  
“When this is over, you and I sit down and we talk about what the fuck you’re doing,” Mike says sharply.   
  
Anders exhales and debates whether the satisfaction of fucking Mike is going to be worth that discussion. Still, it’s not like Mike has to know if he keeps going with his business, which is why he gives agreement in the form of a kiss, sealing off his promise with a nip of his lower lip. Anders has always been good about knowing what his clients like and need and he’s known Mike his whole life.  
  
Anders shifts back and lets his muscles go loose and languid.   
  
“What, no cuffs?” Mike taunts mildly.  
  
“No,” Anders says. “You don’t need to be fucked. You need to be in control. Val left with Rob, they had a baby, they’re not in your life. You need to hold someone down and bruise them and fuck them until they scream and lucky for you, I’m giving you a first-time freebie.” After all, there’s still that boyish part of him that would do anything for his big brother, even after Mike shouts at him for it being the wrong thing to do.   
  
“Don’t,” Mike warns, barely more than a growl.  
  
“Don’t what?” Anders asks, blinking and preserving the innocent act. “Don’t remind you that your wife ran off with your best friend?”  
  
“Fuck you, Anders.”  
  
Well, at least they’re in familiar territory again. Mike shoves and pushes, but by the time they’re in the bedroom, there’s a ferocious undercurrent of need in Mike’s actions and every shove is accompanied by a pull as he starts divesting Anders of his clothes, straddling him on the bed. With every kiss, there’s a profane accusation, but Anders has been wanting this so much longer than he can say and he needs it.   
  
He might need it more than Mike does.  
  
When they’re done, there are a number of marks and bruises on Anders’ body that he wouldn’t have let any other client leave. Some, he won’t even be able to cover up. “You’re like a vampire,” Anders accuses, tugging his shirt back on. “Well? Come on, you wanted to talk,” he says over his shoulder, peering at where Mike is lying languidly in bed.   
  
“Anders,” Mike groans. “I just fucked you.”  
  
“I remember. My arsehole definitely remembers,” Anders supplies. “So?”  
  
“So? It’s fucked up.”  
  
“Olaf is the human incarnation of Axl’s son. Ditto Ty,” Anders says with a scoff. “You want an out? Fine, say it was Ullr. Say Ullr wanted to put Bragi in his place and we stop being the Johnson brothers, but I don’t give a shit. It’s not like we’re having kids. You fucked me, I liked you, I love you, you’re pissed about Valerie, so  _cope_ ,” he barks.  
  
“Jesus Christ,” Mike hisses. “You’re taking in clients for money, Anders.”   
  
Anders notices that he hasn’t yelled at him for the constant comments about Val, which means that Mike must really not want to think about it. “No, I have sex with clients for money. Taking them in makes it sound like I’m running some kind of shelter and there’s no way.”  
  
“You need to stop.”  
  
“No,” Anders replies, clear as anything. “I’m not a prostitute. I screen my clients very thoroughly and you know as well as I do that Bragi keeps anything bad from happening.”  
  
“And what happens if one of your clients turns out, deep down, to really, really want to hurt you?”  
  
“Then I call you and I say I need help,” Anders admits, which has been his back-up plan all along, even before Mike got involved in this. “It hasn’t happened yet and I make a lot of money and it’s a great release, like you wouldn’t believe. It’s guaranteed sex, Mike,” Anders says, shrugging because he doesn’t see the downside. “I get paid, I get laid, and I don’t have to worry about seeing them again unless they book an appointment, it’s great.”  
  
“You’re a whore, Anders.”  
  
“And you’re a control freak. Words,” Anders retorts. He throws Mike’s shirt back at him. “Get dressed and get out, I don’t want to keep having this argument.”  
  
Mike lets out a frustrated growl and does exactly that.  
  
Two weeks later, he’s seeing one of the girls out when Mike shows up in the hallway. Anders hangs off the door casually, unable to keep his smug smirk off his lips. “I thought you might show up again,” he drawls, jutting his hip against the jamb of the door. “You back for a repeat?”  
  
“I’m here to check up on you,” Mike insists, but it isn’t the most convincing lie he’s ever told.  
  
Anders sighs and shakes his head. “You’re shit at lying,” he says. “Which is utterly fucking adorable, but isn’t working for you right now. Come on, I had a cancellation. Get inside and I’ll get you unwound.”  
  
“I swear to god, Anders, if you tell Ty or Axl...”  
  
“Yeah, yeah,” Anders assures. “My former exile will look like puppies and roses, I’ll wish that I had never been born, great objects will fall from the sky and strike me down in the wake of Ullr’s mighty wrath. I get it. Now, get naked because tonight, bro, it’s my turn to be on top.”   
  
He’s not.   
  
Mike never cedes that much control, but at the end of the night, Anders has to admit that of all his clients and all the appointments and all the sex, Mike is quickly becoming his favourite of them all.  
  



End file.
